


Inner Workings of the Pack

by Megane



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Everything's the Same But..., Family Dynamics, Friendship, Humorous Ending, Male Friendship, Monsters, Non-Sexual, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, Play Fighting, Some Humor, Spoiler Free Territory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 11:51:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11161290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megane/pseuds/Megane
Summary: A pack can be two Alphas, a Beta, and an Omega after all. It works perfectly fine for them.





	Inner Workings of the Pack

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to my supporters who have been _really_ patient with this block I've been fighting through. Hopefully, I'll be able to shell out more of my projects. (I have a giant to do list, haha.)
> 
> Sorry if there are some errors in this. My eyes are raw from scraping this thing over for several days.

11:52 AM.

Noctis overslept again. _By two hours_. Ignis had to take his share of the blame, of course. He initially gave Noctis an additional thirty minutes to rest because it seemed like he so sorely needed it. And then… thirty minutes went on for a bit too long. Now, they’re an hour and thirty minutes behind Ignis’ schedule. No one else’s because it’s usually Ignis’ account that keeps everyone ahead of the game and early for whatever appointments they have. However, by Ignis’ account, late is late. He does try to be flexible with his schedule, considering his entourage of friends. Gladio’s usually busy with various degrees of work and training; Prompto is usually readily available, but he also has the unique ability of disappearing for hours on end without anyone knowing where he heads off to. And then, there's Noctis' fatigue, which is an obstacle all on its own. Because of this, Ignis has many variables to work with.

But by and large, they’re still incredibly early for what they had to do today. Ignis just likes to keep things punctual.

Ignis slides back his sleeve and looks at the watch fastened to the underside of his wrist. 11:54. He drops his hands, moves closer to Noctis’ door, and knocks. “The time has come, Your Highness. We should be meeting your father in a matter of minutes,” he says to the door. His voice carries in the empty hall, but Ignis isn't too concerned so long as Noctis hears him. To his surprise, he hears the frantic, searching sound of rustling. There’s the sound of something scraping against wood, and Noctis hisses in pain. Instinctively, Ignis’ hand goes to the door handle.

        “Just…” Noctis begins, voice rough and cracking from sleep. “Give me a minute…”

Ignis pauses for a moment before easing away from the door. He sighs through his nose patiently and moves his hand to his hip. He wonders how long a ‘minute’ will be with the Beta in such a tired state. Usually, Ignis would've allowed himself into the room to help in moments such as this, but he's already tried the door once. It’s locked, which is both a rarity and a clear declaration for privacy. Because of that, Ignis doesn’t ask the prince to open his door, but he pointedly stares at it anyway. He can hear a muffled voice—Noctis muttering to himself—and the hurried stomping of feet crossing through the bedroom. As he listened, there’s a distant  _ping_ from the elevator just a bit further down the hall. Ignis pivots slightly, looking with slightly raised brows as Gladiolus exited out of the lift. 

Gladio, much like Ignis is now, is dressed to the nines in formal attire. He’s wearing the typical uniform of a Shield with a few more accessories than is usually called for. They’re supposed to represent medallions of honour and status. None officially bestowed to him, mind you, but they look convincing despite being decorative. Though Gladio isn’t ranked as highly as his superiors, he’s still someone of note. Gladio’s hair is shaved closer down at the sides, and his mohawk is a respectable length. Ignis isn’t nearly as decorated. Unfortunately, his position doesn’t allow him to be. His outfit has a sleek silhouette with accents of dark, smoky blue and silver. His black slacks meld into his black boots and make his legs look a mile long. The most significant change about him is that his fringe is combed back, exposing more of his face.

Gladio meets Ignis’ gaze and huffs out a silent question; the action makes his chest jerk sharply. Ignis tilts his eyes towards the door. With a short hum, Gladio comes to stand opposite Ignis in front of Noctis’ bedroom door. As Gladio passes, Ignis feels a pressure pushing down on his shoulders. He raises his brows and looks to the other Alpha. Th aura is oppressive, heated. Ignis stares at Gladio for a few heartbeats. Nothing happens. Silence stands between them.

        “He overslept,” Ignis states, cutting through the pause.

        “Obviously,” Gladio grunts. He leans his shoulder against the wall and stares at the silver door handle.

        “Locked,” says Ignis.

        Gladio rolls his eyes. “Figures.”

The other Alpha is especially clipped today. Before Ignis can question why, the lock  _shnt_ s in place, and the door’s pulled open. The unfortunate thing about Noctis stepping out is that he isn’t wearing anything _close_ to formal. He's traded his cargo shorts for long cargo  _pants_  that bunch up around the top of his boots. He… shouldn’t be wearing that. Ignis isn’t sure if Noctis’ formal clothing was set aside and poorly indicated or if Noctis was in such a rush that he didn’t notice. Gladio growls, obviously disapproving of Noctis’ clothes. The fatigued prince looks towards the noise and stares at Gladio, confused. He looks as if he had been sleepwalking and the noise rent him out of the dream into reality.

Ignis takes that moment to step in.

        “Your usual wear won’t cut it today, I’m afraid,” Ignis says plainly.

        “We don’t have time to look for anything else,” Noctis defends lazily. He starts to close the door.

        “Was there nothing set aside for you?” 

Noctis freezes. He ducks his head quickly and then, after a moment, looks over his shoulder. He’s thinking, but as the gears turn, Ignis can plainly see that the prince didn’t know. He didn’t check. The silence is thick as they wait. Ignis doesn't look to Gladio, but he can still hear the  _oh so low_ noise that reverberates from the Shield. Ignis isn’t sure if Gladio is intonating at an Alphaic level or if his irritation is just taking it down that low _._

Noctis looks to Ignis again. The tiredness in his eyes says it all. He just wants to get on with his day. He wants to push on already and deal with whatever comments he gets. Ignis knows because Noctis has had this same look of resignation before. Many, many times before, but this is a fairly special circumstance. He isn't allowed to slide this time. They all need to have a uniform presence today. Ignis doesn't stress this, but the implication is heavy in his returning stare.

        “We’re already running late.” Ignis checks his watch again. “Come. Let’s go inside and try again.”

        Noctis clicks his tongue, starting again to close his door. “Ignis—"

        “If we move quickly, it’ll be over and done with.”

        “No, let’s just—”

        “Get  _dressed_ ,” Gladio snaps this time, his lips curling as he says ‘dressed’, fangs flashing to the young Beta.

 _“Fine!_   _Jeez!”_ Noctis spins around and slaps his hand against the edge of the door. He pushes it open harshly, leaving it for either of the two to come through if so desired.

Ignis lets out another sigh, louder but more controlled this time. He closes his eyes for a moment and feels Gladio shift. When Ignis looks, Gladio’s standing upright. His posture’s ramrod straight, the amber tones of his eyes starting to ignite with that Alphaic fire. 

        “Thank you, Gladio.”

        “Mhm.”

        “You seem to be in unfavourable mood today.” Ignis says carefully, watching Gladio for any tics. There are none; the taller Alpha seems made of stone. “Did something happen?”

        “Family,” Gladio clips. And then, with a stern set to his jaw, he adds, “…Iris.” He looks through Ignis, seeing something that wasn’t there. Thinking about something that was far off. He closes his eyes and took in a deep breath. He unfurls. He becomes flesh, not stone. The forceful push of his aura lightens. Not by much but enough. “I’ll tell you later."

        “Duly noted, but do try to lighten up.” Ignis looks into the room and sees the silhouette of Noctis pulling off his shirt. Ah, he must have found the other clothes he needed to wear. Ignis turns his attention back to Gladio. “I’d rather not hear what the King will have to say if you’re not ‘feeling well.’”

        Gladio makes a dismissive gesture. “Let ‘im say something.”

        In spite of Gladio’s mood, it makes Ignis laugh. He smiles; his shoulders move with his silent laugh; and he shakes his head. “An Alpha until the end.”

        “You know it.” Gladio’s lips curl up in a sharp, dry smile, which tilts mostly to the right. 

Finally, Ignis walks into the room and goes to assist Noctis. The room is mostly dark; all the curtains are drawn, and it's the stream of light coming from the open door that cuts through the darkness. Ignis moves towards Noctis’ closet first, looking for any decorations, medallions, or rings that might have been laid deliberately in hopes to be seen. He can’t see much in the way of anything though and soon backs away.

        “There was no note,” Noctis says as he fits himself into his slacks. “It was in the closet in a bag.”

 _A garment bag_ , Ignis hopes as he crosses the room to stand behind the prince. “Anything else?” he asks out loud. 

        “No,” Noctis says sharply, tiredly. He stops and lets out three sharp huffs. “Wait.” He whips around and points at the floor.

Ignis follows his finger and moves towards an indicated area. It gets darker the closer he gets to the floor though, making it harder to see anything. “No,” he hears, and then three sharp snaps earn his attention. Noctis points again, wiggling his finger with intent as he indicates almost the same spot. " _There_ ,” the prince says, influencing Ignis to see better. Somehow, it works. When Ignis turns his head this time, he sees a dark silver ring turned on its side. Ignis reaches for it and feels another ring on the ground near the first. The second is solid black. Effortless to miss.

He walks over to Noctis and holds the rings in his hand, looking at the shadowy shapes of the clothing that Noctis hastily pulled on and off. Ignis reaches over and touches Noctis’ arm, silently encouraging him to slow down. A shadow passes through the light streaming into the room. Ignis looks over to see that Gladio has switched over to the other side. Ignis refocuses on Noctis. He’s dressed properly, finally; he tugs unsurely at his clothes. Ignis pockets the rings and picks up Noctis’ blazer. He helps the prince slide it on.

Noctis’ slides his hands through each arm, and Ignis keeps himself from frowning. He can feel a cold energy radiate off the prince. It’s just barely held back but there. He adjusts the blazer on Noctis’ shoulders, and he can still feel the cold through Noctis' clothing. He brushes his hands soothingly over Noctis’ shoulders. “It’ll be over soon,” he promises in a low voice. Noctis grunts.

Ignis goes and grabs a pair of shoes he knows would match Noctis’ ensemble. The rest they can sort out in the light. When it’s all done, Noctis exhales sharply, finally ready to leave. He taps the fingers of his right hand against his thumb in a rhythmless motion. Ignis follows him out of the room and into the almost overwhelmingly lit hallway. He squints against the sting in his eyes. After a moment, he pulls out the rings and hands them to Noctis, who silently takes them and slips them on. The prince is dressed in a dark grey suit with thin white pinstripes. Not gaudy, understated. It’s perfect. Ignis steps forward to adjust Noctis’ tie and blazer. He looks to Noctis’ face, wondering if his fatigue is apparent, and he notices the blue tones of Noctis’ eyes look almost black. 

This time, Ignis reaches up to cup the back of Noctis’ neck, draws him close, and massages his fingers against the prince's tense muscles. Noctis calms almost immediately. The chill fades, and Ignis doesn’t let go until it completely disappears. 

        “I know you’re tired, but persevere just for a little longer.”

        “ _Mn…”_ Noctis hums; the noise tells of his displeasure, but the prince sighs against Ignis’ neck, taking in his calming scent. He curls his fingers against Ignis’ shoulder blades. “I’ll try."

When they separate, the blue is back in Noctis’ eyes. Gladio gives the prince a final look over, and then Ignis removes the folded square of cloth from his breast pocket and tucks it into Noctis’.

        “There,” Ignis says. “Much better.”

        Noctis scratches his head with his left hand. “Great. Can we go now?”

        “Shouldn’t we be the ones asking that?” Gladio asks, his voice suspiciously devoid of anything. Ignis levels him a look; Gladio collects himself and moves past it. “Alright. Let’s not keep the King waiting.”

        “Any further, at least,” Ignis adds.

        “What time are we supposed to be there?” Noctis asks, intonating his question as they began down the hall.

        Ignis runs down his mental schedule. “1PM.”

Noctis makes a brief noise, an open mouth scoff that sounds like the snap of an air gun. The Beta chatters in displeasure to himself as they head to the elevator and then quiets. Once they’re inside, Ignis checks his watch again. 12:31PM. They aren’t as early as Ignis would’ve liked or hoped. With any luck, Prompto is in somewhere the vicinity at least. Ignis sighs through his noise and tugs on the lapels of his blazer before folding his hands in front of himself. _Well_ , he thinks. _At least it’s progress_.

 

 

Prompto scrambles up the garden stairs of the castle. Vines and branches cling to his body and hair, some falling off as he runs. He pushes himself upright and snags the bits and odds off of him. He pauses for a moment at the top of stairs, collects the refuse in his hand, and is ready to throw it off when a scholar opens the door before he can. Prompto jerks to attention. He holds his hand behind his back and reaches forward to hold the door open for her. She looks up from her clipboard and startles, seeing Prompto at her side. 

        “E-excuse me,” she says breathily, walking away with a hand over her heart.

Prompto merely nods. As tightlipped and filled with adrenaline as he is, he isn’t able to rush out one of his usual apologies for scaring her. She smiles weakly at him and continues on her way. He hears her nervous little laugh but waits a beat before moving. He throws the vines and branches towards the stairs, unwittingly aiming at the scholar’s back. His eyes widen when he realises his mistake. His now free hand goes to his mouth as he waits anxiously. In the seconds that pass, she doesn't turn around. He didn’t hit her. “Oh, thank god…” Prompto mutters to himself as he turns towards the door.

He whips inside the beautifully decorated antechamber and tugs the door closed behind him. He crosses the room in two quick leaps, grabs the main door, and tears out of the room. He winces when the glass paneled door slams closed behind him, but he doesn't slow down. He runs for the stairs. The carved wood fits under his hand and feels smooth as his palm races up along the surface of the rail. 

He needs to find Noctis! If he remembers correctly, the prince should be… in tutoring right now. That means he’s supposed to be in the library. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too difficult to pick him out amongst the scholars and scribes. Prompto storms up the carpeted stairs and swings around, hops over the landing, and lands effortlessly onto the second set of stairs. He ignores the strange looks he gets from people coming down.

There aren’t any clocks in the hall as he ran, and his phone isn’t on him at the moment. He wouldn't able to slow down or even focus enough to check the time right now anyway. So, he relies solely on instinct. _Library. Go to the library_ , they tell him, and he believes them. He can feel the excitement trickle down his back like sweat.

_Find Noct. That’s it._

The longer he runs, the more obvious his excited scent becomes. He isn’t sure how many packminds work within the castle walls, but if he has to reckon a guess, he'd say it’d have to be a healthy amount.

He never says it’s a good guess.

More people stares at him as he runs. He hears curious huffs and whistles pitched for his Omega ears, but he’s tuning them out right now. He’s on a mission, singleminded as it is, and he can't afford to be distracted. Just as he’s about to lament the size of the castle, he realised he’s close to the libraries. He lets out a breath of relief. Fate decides to smile down on him as Noctis steps out of the library, sliding the door closed behind him. The prince doesn't even have a chance to sigh his own relief. _“Noct!”_ Prompto shouts, throwing out his arms to hold his friend by the shoulders.

Noctis looks up, seemingly startled by the call of his name. He reaches out to grab Prompto by the arms under his elbows. The two spin around. Prompto uses the turn to slow his moment, and when he stops, he and Noctis have switched places. Prompto stands in front of the library door; he doesn’t notice the amused looks from within.

        “Hey, hey. What’s up?” Noctis asks.

Prompto’s arms slide down to Noctis’ biceps. He squeezes the muscles tensely. He stares up at Noctis, his eyes a glimmering mix of blue and violet. Noctis’ nostrils flare, and he chuffs at his friend. Prompto stomps his foot in response. Noctis starts to pull him away towards a hall window, but Prompto locks himself in place. 

        “ _Come with me_ ,” comes the urgent whisper.

Noctis’ eyes glint at the influence. This time, Prompto begins the tugging and moves towards the stairs.

        Noctis goes easily. “Where’re we going?"

         _“The garden!”_ Prompto’s voice lilts excitedly. His heart’s racing. He’s aware that they’re still clasping arms. He laughs; they probably look silly. They go down the stairs side by side. They drop their outside arms and hold each other by the wrists with their occupied hands. “You remember that hedge maze?”

        Noctis makes a noise— “Yeah.” —and crinkles his nose.

They come down to the first landing; Prompto squeezes Noctis’ arm tighter. His nails are starting to dig in, but Noctis doesn't look as if he notices.

        “I found something,” the blond whispers.

        “Oh?” The prince is interested. Prompto nods excitedly, and Noctis pulls him down the remaining stairs. “Really?”

         _“Really!"_

Noctis laughs. At the intonation? Prompto's excitement? The secrecy of it all? Prompto isn’t sure which, but the sound’s accompanied with a friendly squeeze. Prompto looks over. Noctis has a devious smile and a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. He’s totally on board. Prompto smiles brighter.

        “So, what’re we after?”

        “I’m not even sure I know how to explain it! It went back into its… weird burrow. You just— you just gotta see it! Totally alive, by the way! It’s kinda spooky."

        “You don’t seem all that scared.”

Noctis reaches for the door to the garden’s antechamber. Prompto pulls his hand away from Noctis’ wrist.

        “No, no. This is a _good_ spooky. But it was small—and fat! Noct, oh my goodness. It was so _round_.”

        “And you wanted to get me, so we could find it and share a heartwarming moment together,” Noctis teases.

        Prompto places his hands over his heart. “Who else could _possibly_ appreciate it like you do?"

Noctis steps forward to open the door leading out to the garden. He pulls it open, and Prompto steps through first. He looks in the direction they need to go and starts walking ahead. “Alright! We just have to go this— Huh?" He stops mid-step and looks over his shoulder to see Noctis grabbing the end of his vest. The Beta prince is rocked back onto his heels ever so slightly, using himself as a counterweight against Prompto’s leaning forward. When their eyes meet, Noctis rights himself and begins fanning Prompto’s vest as well. The Omega sways with every hearty snap of his clothes. When Noctis' finishes, he lets go of the vest and pats Prompto on the back with both hands.  

        “Okay. You’re all aired out now."

        Prompto scoffs and reaches up both hands, smacking at the hands that were resting on his shoulders. “What was that for?!"

        “You were stinking up the place with your scent.”

        Prompto gasps, feigning offense. “I’m about to show you something amazing, and this is how you treat me?”

        Noctis laughs and comes to stand at Prompto’s side; he wraps his left arm around Prompto’s waist. “Aww, c’mon. Don’t be that way.”

        With a sigh, Prompto rolls his eyes and brings his arm around Noctis’ waist as well. “Y’know, I should just take my secret and leave.”

Noctis chuckles and turns back to close the door behind them. 

        “But, who’s going to show me all the good-spooky-cute things if you go away?”

        “Fair point.” Prompto gives a dramatic sigh. "You’d be woefully ignorant without me.”

        “Sure would. Now, come on. You’ve got me all in suspense. When’re we gonna see the round, weird burrowing secret?”

        Prompto laughs. His scent’s something completely different now, something sweet and inviting and so incredibly  _happy._ “Alright— this way! I  _promise_  you it’ll be worth it.”

They carry on side by side further into the garden. Prompto leads, moving a step faster when he needs to. Sometimes, he squeezes his arm around Noctis’ waist to guide his friend silently. Other times, he whines and looks firmly in the direction they were going. The garden’s big, almost overwhelmingly so, but Prompto knows where he was going. He’s just glad that Noctis trusts him implicitly to lead. 

 

 

Gladiolus laughs bitterly.

Here he is in a restaurant three thousand miles away from home and speaking a completely different dialect, and this place _still_ manages to remind him of a bar he hasn’t been to in several years. Gladio crosses his right hand over to stroke the underside of his eye where the end of his scar is. He shakes his head at the memory. It's a random ghost that comes to haunt him every now and again. He brings his head down and sees Prompto and Ignis staring at him. He can read the question in their eyes.

        “It’s nothing,” he says finally. “This place just reminds me of that bar Noct and I went to a while back.” A long while back, but he doesn’t need to say that. 

He watches as the two look to each other, but then Ignis turns his attention back to his drink. Prompto looks around the restaurant.

        “Speaking of… where _is_ Noct?”

        Ignis flicks out his right arm and looks at his watch. “He was supposed to meet up with us a while ago.”

        “Think he got lost?” Prompto asks innocuously, looking back to Ignis.

        Gladio scoffs, ready with a quip. “Maybe he—"

Wait. There’s a subtle change in the air. Ignis feels it too; Gladio looks to him and sees the advisor’s hands clenches tight around the slender cup he's drinking from. He cocks his head slightly to the left, hearing _something_. When Ignis locks gazes with Gladio, that’s when both Alphas know for certain. The scent of magic taints the air, and Gladio grits his teeth, fangs bared as he summons his broadsword. 

         _“Get down!”_ he shouts, turning to his right and jabbing the weapon into the ground.

Ignis raises up suddenly and reaches for Prompto as he jumps across the table, causing it to flip over in the process. Gladio feels a body hit the back of his legs, and the table cracks against his hip. He ignores the pain and instead focuses on the deafening sound of wood splintering. The restaurant wall just across from Gladio and the others’ position bursts open. Debris smacks against the table and broadsword. Gladio can feel glass and wood fragments scratch along his knuckles and forearms. Screaming fills the air as well as an unnatural, almost metallic, rattling noise. Gladio scrunches up his nose. The air smells like ozone and vinegar with too much emphasis on the latter. He makes a brief hacking noise and shook his head hard. He regains himself quickly and looks down under his arm to the two packminds on the floor behind him.

        “You alright?”

        “We’re fine,” Ignis says. Gladio can pick up the snarl in his companion’s voice.

        “I’m okay!” Prompto says as he and Ignis sit up. He gives Ignis a look, but the advisor merely nods.

The two soon bound up to their feet, and Gladio refocuses on the damage in front of him. There’s a rough hole blown through the wall. Whatever the cause is, it sent chairs and tables closest to that wall flying — as well as a disgruntled Beta prince.

Gladio feels relief cool down the fire of his Alphaic senses. He pulls his sword out of the ground and brings it up to his shoulder.

        “Havin’ a party without us?” he shouts over the frenzied and confused sound of patrons escaping.

        “Well,” Noctis begins. He spins his dagger around. He bounces back a step and prepares to throw his weapon. Gladio’s brows raise; there’s the unmistakable smell of Noctis’ aggressive, almost feral scent. _“You’re invited now!”_

With that, Noctis launches his dagger forward and transports out of the room. Prompto and Ignis rush forward; Gladio follows a second after. As soon as he’s outside, the sunlight stings his eyes. He growls not only through the pain but at the sudden scent he picks up. There's the familiar three—cinnamon, aethereal, and cider—but then there’s something _not right_  mixed in as well. The metallic rattling fills the air again, and Gladio lays his eyes on the creature before them.

It’s big, Behemoth big. From the scent of it, it's a daemon, and the thought makes Gladio growl furiously. The creature has the body of a six-legged horse. Darkness flows from its legs, creating a smoky shadow with every kick. The tail is made of the same smoky darkness. The upper body, however, is that of a man’s. One arm is up in the air, holding a crescent shaped hand axe. But, the truly unsettling thing is the creature's malformed left arm. Its skin branches between the arm and the creature’s ribs. The arm disappears at the wrist, melting into the horse body. Its head is perpetually tilted to the left; its neck looks broken, bone prodding up unnaturally against the skin. One eye’s normal; the other’s sunken in, pitch black, with a single red glint. 

The creature arches its back, right arm open at its side, the left side painfully attempting to tug itself free of its deformed prison. The metallic noise shakes through Gladio’s body. His heart hammers at the sound, and he responds the only way he knew how.

By fighting.

The others flank around the beast. Gladio’s eyes dart to everyone’s position before he allows himself to land his first strike. Each move has to be more calculated than the last because they’re still too close to the restaurant for his comfort. He jumps back and parries a strike, knocking the beast off guard for one of the others. The creature screams in pain, and it sets Gladio's soul aflame. He feels a growl of his own build up in response, but he pushes as his instincts for now. Instead, he looks around. They need to get away from this restaurant..!

Not too far away through a thin line of trees, Gladio can spot… something. Empty space. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing. It's better than  _here._ They need to move. They just need to divert the beast’s attention somehow. 

As he deliberates, the creature swings down its right arm. The axe comes flying down and tears through the air. Gladio dodges out of the way, turning his head when dust and earth fly into the air. The human half of the centaur bends down, trying to stare at the Alpha. Gladio glares, another growl creeping up in his chest as he met the centaur’s eyes. He hears the sound of chains rattling in his head and flinches at the noise. Just as the sound becomes deafening, Noctis descends from the sky, stabbing his Dragoon Lance down into the creature’s neck. The centaur snaps back. Its many legs stomp at the ground, and the creature’s right arm swings wide, cutting through the roof and sending shingles flying into the air.

        “Watch it!” Gladio snaps, trying to shake the feeling of chains in his head.  “We need to get that thing outta here.”

        “You got a plan?!” Prompto shouts, sliding towards Gladio and firing off his gun.

        “Something like that,” Gladio grumbles to himself.

He swings his sword behind him, holding it with one hand, and helps Prompto to his feet with the other. The Omega raises his hand and knocks a forearm with Gladio's. “Thanks, buddy,” he says in a hurry before dashing off in a new direction. Gladio watches as Noctis drops down from the creature’s shoulder. As he’s falling, the centaur’s left arm starts twitching as if attempting to grab the prince. The sight is grotesque, but it’s the perfect place to hit. 

Gladio dodges out of the way of the wildly swinging axe. Noctis manages to warp out of the way, just barely missing getting bisected by the blade. Ignis rushes towards Noctis, making sure he’s okay before standing upright. The sharp scent of cinnamon burns now, smelling more like a freshly made fire, as Ignis’ hunter sense grows. Gladio grins fiercely, glad that the other Alpha feels the way he does. Ignis calmly pushes up his glasses with the butt of his dagger. He looks over his shoulder towards Gladio. 

         _“Shall we then?”_ Ignis asks, tossing one dagger in the air.

         _“Let’s hit it where it hurts!"_

With that, Ignis catches his dagger underhanded and charges towards the creature. Gladio picked up the rear. “Aim high! Hit the arm!” he shouts. Gladio feels Ignis’ aura change like a ripple in the water. Acknowledgement. _Good._ When they’re close, Ignis launches himself into the air. Gladio juts his sword forward, turning it sideways and aiming for the belly of the beast. As the creature reels in pain, Gladio jumps onto the broad side of his sword and stands on it. Ignis lands on his shoulders and slides through the tense flesh of the disfigured arm. The scream that follows is almost unbearable. The small pack of four tense at the scream, the metallic noise scraping in their collective minds. 

Ignis jumps down, and as he does, the multi-legged creature jerks forward to look at him. The red glint in its sunken eye glows brighter. The heat of the oncoming spell mixes with the fire of Ignis’ Alphaic scent. The Fira spell smokes before it ignites explosively. The small explosion sends Ignis flying, and Gladio feels Ignis’ own fire die out upon impact. He bends down and grabs the handle of his sword.

        “Ignis!”

         _“I got ‘im!”_ Prompto shouts, dismissing his weapons as he helps pick Ignis up from the floor.

Gladio bears his teeth. He grips the sword handle with his right hand, jumps around, and spins as he cuts through the beast's tender flesh. With the creature at his back, he has to run forward to avoid being kicked. A hoof connects with his broadsword, and the sudden twist is so uncomfortable, Gladio nearly drops his weapon. As he makes his escape, he hears the creature scream and chase after him. He enters through a freezing cold field as he gets closer to Noctis. The Beta tries to run forward, but Gladio grabs the prince by his arm.

        “Don’t be an idiot. _Go this way!"_

Noctis’ eyes shine like a dark crystal. He sneers at the creature and then Gladio, but he allows himself to be turned. He pulls himself out of Gladio’s hold, even as Gladio’s grip is already loosening, and takes the lead. Gladio watches Noctis’ back before looking up. Ahead of them, Ignis and Prompto are already running towards the empty lot. Prompto crosses his arms over his face as he runs through the barrier of trees. Gladio can smell blood. He chances a glance over his shoulder. The centaur is trailing blood as it runs. It swings the hand axe to try and hit any of the four. 

He looks forward again just as he hears the belly deep growl the creature emits. He growls in return, more out of reflex than trying to challenge it. Who’s he kidding? Of _course_ he’s trying to challenge it. When Gladio finally makes it through the tree line, he can see that there is, in fact, a parking lot on the other side. There are only two cars here, both a good distance away from each other. It’s possible the two could get caught in the cross fire of the battle, but if the small pack can avoid getting anyone killed in the process, Gladio considers the vehicles to be suitable collateral damage.

Behind him, the daemon crashes through the trees, its axe cutting through the air gracelessly.

        “That thing’s gonna tear us apart!” Prompto shouts, voice wavering only slightly.

        “Not if we get to it first!” Ignis begins. The small pack whips around, and Gladio can feel the other’s determination.

        “If we pin down that hand, we can deal with part of the problem," he says.

        “ _Right!”_ everyone else agrees in unison.

Noctis goes high above, phasing out of view as everyone else charges ahead. The beast twists this way and that, trying to track either Ignis or Prompto. When it can get neither of the two, it snaps forward, looking dead ahead at Gladio. There’s a moment of nothing, and then Gladio sees a faint twitch in the creature’s malformed arm. And then it strikes. The axe comes down over Gladio’s head, but he just manages to brace against it in time. The beast leans its weight forward, trying to overpower Gladio and push him down into the dirt.

However, above him, Gladio hears a sharp whistle. He bends his knees, giving the creature the idea that it’s winning. He hears the guttural noise, the overhead weight on his sword causing him to fold, but then the pressure lessens significantly. The creature’s body jerks side to side, and its scream sounds like a dying whinny. Gladio tosses the axe away from himself, and he steps back just as it crashes limply in front of him. The pained sound gets sharper, almost unbearable as Noctis comes crashing down and pins the beast's hand to the ground. Gladio twists his sword, lifts it above his head, and slices through the creature’s flesh just above the wrist. 

Blood spills out, and the multi-legged centaur jumps back, screaming in anger and pain. Gladio looks to it and the back to the hand. Now that he was close enough to notice, he can see that the fingers are all fused together around the handle of the hand axe. He sneers, and Noctis comes to his side. The Beta conjures up a broadsword of his own.

         _“Let’s put this bastard out of its misery,”_ Gladio growls.

Noctis nods his head and brings the weapon to eye level. The charge ahead in unison. Noctis strikes with both hands; Gladio only needs one.

 

 

They’re stuck in town for nearly a month when the cycles hit. It works out for all of them, which is a rare thing to say. Luck hasn't exactly been on their side in the past few months. They couldn't have picked a better town to crash in. The one they’re based at is packed with odd jobs and bounties. There’s more than enough entertainment and action to keep them all occupied. The one downside, if it can truly be called that, is that there’s a high packmind population. The small pack of four chooses to stay indoors mostly, if they can help it. It’s better that way.

The first to hit are the synchronised ruts. The Alphas’ showboating is equal parts amusing and irritating. Gladio and Ignis look at each other sometimes as if they’ve never seen one another before. In spite of their close knit and usually brotherly behaviour, the internal battle between the two of them is almost palpable. Their territorial sides fill the inn with dominating and challenging auras. Gladio doesn’t have much of a scent, which Prompto and Noctis are suddenly very thankful for. 

During the rut, Gladio growls more than he talks. His eyes are constantly brightly lit. He has to wear sunglasses when he goes out of the inn. It’s mostly for the unaligned populace. For packminds, it’d be a futile attempt at a disguise. When he leaves, sometimes he’s gone for hours, but when he comes back, he always has something freshly but hastily wrapped in butcher’s paper. Noctis and Prompto can always smell the bundled meat from the couch. They run in as Ignis unwraps it with trembling hands and a cool exterior.

They don’t sell the kind of meat—sabertusk, wild plains basilisk, mammoth, and, one time, baby behemoth—that Gladio brings in stores.

Ignis has his usually collectedness about him, but he’s somehow more transparent. His hands are constantly trembling. He’s impatient; he breaks things. He’s almost clumsy in his own skin. When he shoulder checks Gladio leaving the inn, the two stare at each other as if they’re ready to have a showdown. Noctis watches with wide eyes; his Beta instincts have his muscles wound tight, ready to spring in if needed. Prompto’s eyes are wide but for a different reason. He’s in awe by the change in the two of them. He’s never seen Alphas undergo ruts up close before.

He has fun messing with the two of them though, even if that does sometimes get him chased out of the inn by one or the other. Thankfully, never both.

Ignis’ nature as a Solo Alpha has him wandering sometimes, and he’s usually gone for much longer than Gladio is. Once he leaves and doesn’t come back until mid-afternoon the next day. During that time, Noctis tries not to worry; Prompto worries very loudly. By day six, the Beta and Omega have gotten used to it. Or at least as used to it as they can. There are still surprises being in close quarters with two aggressive Alphas, but they never feel threatened or in danger. It’s exhausting always being ready to intervene, but Noctis and Prompto learn to take it with grace.

As a pair, they sit on the beds or on the couch and watch when Gladio and Ignis decide to wrestle. It’s good for them to get it all out. The fights are wild, nearly feral, but it’s entertaining—at least for a time. The Beta and Omega always leap to their feet and rush in when they see blood. By day eight, it’s all over. Noctis’ haze swoops in and takes their place almost immediately.

He’s there but not. His mind is occupied. He stares through this friends into a far off place. His body temperature regulates properly now, but he feels clammy to the touch. Goosebumps break out easily on his skin. His skin tingles as magic rises to the surface. He communicates mostly in pack speak, but he can talk. It’s just airy and breathy and distracted when he does. Ignis constantly checks Noctis’ heart rate to make sure it doesn’t lapse to 30BPM as it’s sometimes wont to do during Noctis’ hazes. Gladio’s nearby to make keep Noctis grounded, to keep him from dropping completely and going catatonic. Prompto’s good at making sure the prince doesn’t run into things, that he eats, that he’s—for the most part—safe.

Sometimes, Noctis’ eyes look like crystal. They shine with an otherworldly glow, and it’s at those moments when he uses his words less and talks only through pack speak. He moves slower; he’s harder to bring back from the deep recess of space that only Betas can go to. Other times, his eyes are darker than night, emptier too. The three take turns sharing a bed with him, letting him curl up however he feels.

His hazes are short, lasting about four days, but it’s four days of wound tension that snaps the minute Noctis complains about being up at six in the morning.

Prompto’s heat comes slowly. It takes a week for it to set in completely. They prepare by buying medicine. The Beta and two Alphas buy new clothes and make a nest with their old ones for Prompto to curl up in. They buy supplies that aren’t too conspicuous. They match the decor well enough, so the group feels as if they can get away with leaving the supplies behind. Before the heat strikes full on, Prompto’s tells start to become more obvious. He thumbs at Gladio’s necklace, paws at it single mindedly until Gladio caves and gives it to him. He leans into Ignis’ space, nosing at the scent gland under his chin until he falls asleep. And with Noctis, he manages to wrangle into the nest, never really aware of his own actions. 

Noctis teases him at one point, asking if they can’t just talk in the living room. Prompto gives him a look. The couch is as hard as a rock; the nest is far more comfortable. Noctis just laughs and follows. Prompto’s never complained about the couch before.

All the while, the smell of freshly cut apples and cider flows through the air before becoming heady, sickening, nauseatingly sweet and tempting. It’s like bait in a trap. When Prompto’s heat finally sets in, his skin feels like fire. He’s nauseated but still trying to make jokes at his own expense. It doesn’t work out too well; making jokes takes up more energy than he has to give. He spends most of his time literally face down in his nest naked under a thin sheet. His fingertips, ears, and neck are flushed bright pink. He looks feverish and whimpers like he’s drunk. He wants it to be over. When he requests one of the Alphas come stay with him in the nest, they do so without delay. They’re all Bonded to each other. The almost familial imprinting keeps any of them from making any wrong decisions. Prompto feels safe.

One day, Noctis takes mock offense and burrows himself under Prompto’s blanket, joking and asking if a Beta isn’t good enough to nest with. Prompto laughs. The noise is strained, but he laughs. He’s happy; it’s a clear shift in the air, and Noctis smiles. Anything to make the pain lessen is good by his note.

When Prompto’s heat is over, he hogs the bathroom for two hours, cleaning himself throughly and singing a song none of them have ever heard before. He gets out, and Ignis switches with him and washes the heat guard sheet that lined the bottom of the nest. No one talks about it as Ignis hangs the sheet out to dry on the balcony. They chat as everything turns back to normal.

They clean up when it’s time to leave. They take care to clean the place top to bottom, airing it out so none of their scents can linger for much longer. Maybe it’s not a great attempt, but they feel it’s necessary to try. After a run final through, there’s a silent sense of pride as the small pack exits their inn with no traces left behind.

 

 

They’re back on the road again; it rains one night and almost floods their tent. When day breaks, they check the weather on their phones. It takes five attempts, but one of them manages to get through. Reception’s pretty bad in the middle of nowhere. Forecast says it’ll rain all day. They vow to find better shelter in the meantime. They come across an RV. The space isn’t ideal, and the owner of the travel camp is a right son of a bitch, but at 20 Gil a night, the four can afford not to complain. They manage to sleep soundly through the night. The rain provides a lovely lullaby. Somehow, it feels better than the inn. They run into town for supplies the next day and get caught in another storm. 

Ignis bolts back to the car first. Rain pelts his glasses, and he almost has to take them off. He slides them further down his nose as he slides into the driver seat. He hurriedly draws the hard top up. The interior of the Regalia is soaked. Ignis blinks through the water on his lashes and looks around. It’s pretty bad, but he thinks their towels should be good enough to wipe off the seats. Right when the hard top's almost completely closed, he looks towards the store they were in and sees the others running back with bags. Gladio has the new tent under his arm. There are smiles on their face. Ignis pops the trunk; he can hear the excited talk of the others outside as they pile everything in. The trunk slams closed; the car doors all open. When the others get in, they’re laughing and shaking the water off their bodies. Ignis smiles too. He tries not to be upset about the water getting everywhere.

It’s easier than he thinks.

When they get back to camp, they wait out the rain before going outside and using the grill for brunch. 

Prompto thrills excitedly when the food hits his tongue. Noctis hums to himself before intonating another hum to get Ignis’ attention. Ignis looks over to him, gives a brief two finger salute, and goes back to eating his food. When everyone finishes, they lean back in the fold out chairs, holding their stomachs and admiring the scenery. They can hear the owner grumbling to himself, complaining about something related to the four of them. The pack turns their head before looking to each other. They rattle off packspeak, motioning with their hands and complaining about the owner in return. They burst into laughter at their own jokes, soon forgetting about the man, and are completely unaware when he glares at their backs.

        “I have an idea,” Prompto says, sitting up and placing both hands on his knees. “We should play a game!”

        “What kinda game?” Gladio asks.

        Prompto grins, looking around to the group before standing up. “Follow me, follow me!”

He moves to pull up Noctis by his hands. His scent is excited. Ignis and Gladio help themselves and stand up easily. Prompto cuts through the group to walk towards the open land. They throw away their disposable dishes as they pass the trashcan. None of them comment on how much rain water is in the trash. The owner can figure that out himself. As they walk, Prompto scans the area, trying to find a section of land that isn’t miserably wet. When he finds a patch of land that suits his needs, he perks up and points to it.

        “There! _Noct, come here_ ,” he says, spinning on his heels and opening his arms out for his friend.

Noctis jogs forward slightly. Prompto's hands find his shoulders. He spins the prince and himself around before marching ahead. The two Alphas linger behind. Ignis huffs and smiles to himself, watching as Prompto creates a wide distance between them all. Gladio shifts his weight. Up ahead, Prompto pulls his hands back. Noctis looks over his shoulder towards the two Alphas and then back to Prompto. The two talk; it’s hard to hear about what, but Prompto’s laugh fills the quiet air.

        Gladio smirks and crosses his arms over his chest. “I think I know what game we’re playing,” he says as Prompto runs back.

        “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Ignis replies, pushing up his glasses.

        “Okay!” Prompto jumps and lands with both feel before turning around. “Ready, Noct?” he shouts.

        Noctis, now facing them, places his hands on his hips. “Just don’t get me dirty, okay!”

        “No promises!” Gladio shouts back. Ignis laughs off to the side.

Noctis rolls his eyes and drops his arms at his sides. He spins around on one foot lazily and looks away. They all go quiet and close their eyes, taking in a deep breath to control themselves. They slow their hearts and enter their own spaces, trying to keep their excitement down before the game starts. Noctis’ eyes glow like the Crystal when he opens them. He can feel the others far away from him. There’s a chill that runs across his shoulders and down his back. He takes another deep breath and covers his eyes with both hands.

        “Green light!”

He feels them move; there’s the sensation of something creeping closer, and then—

        “Red light!”

He looks over his shoulder then, pulling his hands away from his face slightly to see. Ignis looks like a sprinter about to take off, perfectly frozen in place. Gladio’s standing up mostly straight. His right foot is balanced on its heel. Prompto’s squatting with his elbows on his knees. They look funny, but they’re a few feet closer than they were before. Damn, they’re moving fast. Noctis scoots up a few feet. He hears the others chuff and growl behind him. He smiles and covers his face again.

        “Green light!” He waits a few seconds and hunches his shoulders. He feels like they’re right up behind him, but that’s impossible. “Red light!”

He shakes his shoulders before looking over his shoulder. Prompto’s leaning against Gladio, frozen on one foot. Gladio has his hand on the Omega’s hip to keep him steady. Ignis is ahead of the two. He’s focused; his hands are at his sides in loosely curled fists. Noctis resists the urge to move up again. He turns around and continues the game.

The urge that he’s being crept on gets stronger. It shifts. He feels like he’s being hunted. It’s thrilling in a way but also incredibly disorientating. He retreats into the Beta space, keeping his mind and body grounded. It’s just a game; he’s not being hunted. But every time he looks, even the resolute shine in Prompto’s eyes makes him feel like prey. 

He throws up a finger in the air and lets out a sharp chirp. He needs a moment. The others respond and relax. They stay where they are, talking while Noctis takes a moment to collect himself. A minute passes; three snaps earn their attention again. They notice Noctis has moved up a foot. He smirks at them over his shoulder.

The game is on again.

This time, he switches things up, calling two red lights immediately after each other. Gladio huffs in irritation; Noctis laughs to himself. He feels that tingling along his spine again. It’s stronger than ever. They’re getting closer. He leans forward, though that doesn’t help him much. At a final red light, he can feel someone’s hand close to him. He barely gets to finish saying “Green light” when strong arms wrap around his middle and lift him up. Noctis places his hands on Gladio’s arm and laughs. The Alpha spins their bodies around.

Ignis pushes his glasses up, looks proper again. His gloves have a bit of dirt on them. Prompto throws his hands into his hair and arches back a little. “So close!” he shouts. Gladio braces his right arm and pulls the left one away, showing off by flexing a bit. 

        “Maybe next time,” Noctis adds with a breathy laugh.

        “Yeah, yeah. Okay! Who’s next?” Prompto asks as Noctis gets set down.

Noctis motions to Gladio and offers to sit the next one out. It feels good for the four of them to relax. They try to be selfish and forget what lies ahead of them. Duty can have them later, but for now, things are carefree and perfect between four of them. A small pack just trying to find what little peace they can have in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Long time, no see, right? How the hell have you all been, FFXV fandom?
> 
> Things have been wild on my end. I've been fighting through a really difficult writer's block. Or maybe it was just a strike of ineptitude so powerful it rendered me useless, haha. But I've been thinking about a non-sexual ABO for a really long time. I hope you all enjoyed it.
> 
> Hopefully, I'll be able to link this out on tumblr soon, so you can read some of my notes and thoughts about the whole process!


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